fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Common Room, Friday Afternoon

This grey and rainy afternoon seemed like the perfect time for Isabelle to seize control of her common room's kitchen area and cook something. Everyone liked a bowlful of hot soup to warm them up for the fall weather, right? So that was what she was making as she bustled around the kitchen, her long dress flaring out around her legs and then settling down again whenever she turned to get this or that from the cupboards. She was following a recipe (for a given Izzy value of "following") she'd gotten from someone back in New York, and the soup smelled just fine. So, it was kind of like one of those exotic animals in a rain forest that look beautiful but are just waiting to poison you and eat your face.

Isabelle's soup wasn't going to eat anyone's face. At most, it was going to give people an upset stomach. Not to mention a need to be extra polite and claim it tasted just fine, really, and that the tuna and the... whatever that really strong spice was were a really good match. Honest.

She looked pretty content and even happy, though, stirring the pot as she waited for the soup o be finished. So, there was that.

[ooc: Open! Come taste Izzy's awful cooking.]

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"You're going to kick my ass?" Yep, that was an incredulous look there.

Oh, Isaac. Look at that eyebrow go way, way up.

"You think I couldn't?"

"I didn't say that." After all, he had been stabbed a lot by Allison before. "But I think you'd have a tough time doing it."

"Well, I didn't say it would be easy."

Just that she'd get it done.

She poked at the soup again. "I think this is done now, you want some?"

"Uh." That so did not look edible. "I guess so."

And it was going to taste even worse!

Isabelle smiled at him. "Great," she said, as she went to grab him a bowl. So he couldn't change his mind. A moment later, and she was offering him both a bowlful of soup as well as a spoon. "Careful, it's hot."

And horrible.

Oh god. "Looks good."

Thank god she couldn't hear that lie.

The face he made when he took a hesitant spoonful, however, probably said everything.

Isabelle tilted her head.

"Too much salt?"

Too much of all the wrong things, Izzy.

"Just a little." Sure, let's go with that excuse.

Isabelle shrugged happily. "Well, that's just a minor problem," she claimed. "You know, back home, they like to act like I can't cook."

Okay, she was kind of aggressively cheerful about that. It might have been a good idea not to agree with her family's very accurate opinion of her skills.

"I can't imagine why they would say that." Oh he knew why.

Maybe his werewolf healing will help him get through eating the entire bowl of soup without keeling over.

Isabelle smiling at him would totally make up for it if he did, right?

"Thank you," she said. "I don't know what they're on about."

Whether that was true was a question for the ages because her poker face on this topic was amazing.

"Do you cook often?" It really didn't seem like she did. This seemed like a first time effort. By a two year old.

"Sometimes," she shrugged. "And I'm taking a class right now."

A class where she'd done nothing of any merit, apart from impressing Dr. Lecter with the knife skills she hadn't learned in a kitchen.

"Well it's only been a few weeks into the semester." She might get better. Maybe. "I mean, maybe you'll make something fancier than soup soon."

Sure, that's what he meant.

"Maybe." Nah, she was going to a miraculous cooking disaster forever, with only minor improvements. "I'm hoping we'll cover some baking soon, because my brother's birthday is coming up. I'd like to bake a cake."

Somewhere else in the dorms, Alec was terrified for no good reason.

"Oh I'm sure he'll just love that." No, he'd die of food poisoning. "I think I'm getting full."

Or nauseous. Either/or.

"Really? Wow, then I definitely hit the goal of making it filling."

The delusion was so strong with this one, seriously. Or she was being nice and not making him finish it all. One of those.

"You really, really did. So filling," Isaac said. "I'm just sorry I can finish it all...because it was so good."

Was he laying it on kind of thick here?

Definitely. And the brief look on Isabelle's face said as much.

But she could move past that. With the smoothest of transitions. "So, fall break, huh? Are you going?"

Isaac nodded. "Couldn't turn down the chance to get out of the country. Never been before."

"Neither have I." She paused. "Well, I've been to Europe, just not to Italy."

"Damn, and here I thought you'd be able to offer me tips about the country," he said, snapping his fingers. "You don't know any Italian at all?"

"I know Latin?" Isabelle offered. Close enough. "And I could probably fake some common sense advice, if I had to."

"Well fake away then," Isaac said with a wave of his hand. "I'm a stupid American tourist, after all."

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